There is a flower, a little flower With silver crest and golden eye, That welcomes every changing hour, And weathers every sky.

Prayer is the soul's sincere desire, Uttered or unexpressed, The motion of a hidden fire That trembles in the breast. Prayer is the burden of a sigh, The falling of a tear, The upward glancing of an eye When none but God is near.

Time is eternity begun.

When the good man yields his breath (For the good man never dies).

When evening closes Nature's eye, The glow-worm lights her little spark To captivate her favorite fly And tempt the rover through the dark.

When to the cross I turn my eyes,And rest on Calvary,O Lamb of God, my sacrifice,I must remember Thee.

There is a calm for those who weep, A rest for weary pilgrims found, They softly lie and sweetly sleep Low in the ground.